So it’s been a good two years since riding my last Livestrong Challenge in 2007.  Life’s been good.  My CT Scans to check for recurrence of cancer started to get less and less frequent as time went on, stretching to as long as 6 months between scans.  This is going to sound weird, but life became more normal...in a really good way.  I’ve watched my nieces grow from infants into two little beautiful girls.  I’ve worked hard at my job and have been having a good time working with the guys on my team.  But most of all what’s been wonderful is that Jenn and I have been able to relax more and more and just start living life: going on outdoor adventures, kayaking, hiking, camping and also just enjoying life at home.  I’ve also really gotten to spend time on stuff I love like studying music and photography (shameless plug: chumpboy.smugmug.com).  

Last November I’d even gotten to the 2-year mark of having clean CT scans.  The hope was that I’d get to the 4-year mark, 4 years of no tumors, where I’d be considered cured and that my 4th bout with cancer in 2007 was going to be my last.

About a month ago I went back to Dr. Goldberg’s office for my scan.  It’d been 6 months since my last scan.  The morning of a scan started out just like any other scan day.  Stop eating food early in the day, stay well hydrated, show up, lie on the scanning table, get an IV and then they inject contrast into your bloodstream for the scan.  The scan itself is usually not much of an event.

It’s usually a few hours between the scan and the actual visit with Dr. Goldberg, my oncologist.  The thought inevitably comes across my mind “what if there’s new tumors this time?”  But also, over the year I stopped worrying too much and being able to just be at ease in the moment.  It’s a lot easier to do when Jenn’s around as we’ve learned to enjoy ourselves no matter where we were.  That’s what spending months in an intensive-care-unit can do for a couple.  :-)

By this time I’d already decided I was going to do the 2009 Livestrong Challenge.  This’ll be the first year in Seattle and so of course I have to do it.  I’d taken a year off of cycling but had started riding again.  It felt good to be back on the road again alone thinking about stuff...mostly about how much my butt hurt.  Yeah...it’s hard to describe why us cyclists like cycling so much. 

So there we were, Jenn and I, waiting in one of the patient rooms for Dr. G to come in with the results.  I was reading a book and Jenn was of course getting her not-so-regular dose of People Magazine (the one reason she actually looks forward to going to the doctor’s office).  Dr G came into the office carrying my incredibly heavy patient file (because of all the paper that’s collected over the past 9 years) and sat down next to me.  He was his normal jovial Brooklyn-native self and we were genuinely happy to sea each other again.  We of course started joking around making each other laugh.  We’d all been through a lot together so it felt like old friends getting together.

When he plopped my file down on the counter, on top was the CT Scan report, which he then started to read.  At first he said “Ok so... scan looks good...” but it was clear that he was reading it for the first time.  Then it appeared that something caught his attention and he started to concentrate.  As he read the report out-loud, which is what he usually does, he then got to a section that stated “...high concern of metastasis.” 

Dr. G then brought up the actual scan results up on the computer.  On the screen were a bunch of thin vertical slices of my chest showing my lungs as if looking from the bottom up.  The normal signs of 3 surgeries were still there, all the scars, the left lung down to less than half the normal side because of all the removal.  But there it was, a bright white spot in the middle of what’s left of my left lung, the thing that the radiologist that read the scan believed was a tumor.  Dr. G brought up my previous scans to compare them and it was hard to deny that something was there now.

This was the moment where things just really change.  Of course, I’d been through the whole “getting bad news” thing 4 times previously.  But this one was different, as they all were.  What I remember was just becoming very focused.  I thought in my head, “OK, so we just need to figure out what to do next.  What treatment options we have.  Whatever it is, chemo, surgery, radiation, I know I can handle it.  I’m ready.”  I could sense from Jenn that she had the same focus.  She’s been through this 3 times with me and she too was thinking “OK what do we have to do?  Whatever it is, we’re ready.”

For a good long while all three of us huddled around the computer examining the images that Dr. G was bringing up on the screen.  After he established that he agreed with the report he then did some research on what’s the latest findings and clinical trials going on with Malignant Recurrent Thymoma.  It wasn’t a surprise to see that there wasn’t much at all.  This kind of cancer is really rare and treatment options are still really unclear.

And then, a funny thought popped into my head.  I thought “Well...this time I’ll be riding the Livestrong Challenge *with* cancer instead of as a 4-time survivor...hmm...haven’t done that yet...SWEET!” 

It’s been a month now and we’re still evaluating treatment options.  What’s important though is that I feel good at the moment, don’t have any symptoms, and follow-up scans show that the tumor is stable and not growing and we can take our time looking at what options there are.

In the meantime, I’m continuing to train, and Jenn has me eating more vegetables and nutritious raw food than I’ve ever had in my life thanks to our high-end blender.  I’ve even lost 7 pounds!  :-)  As for what to do next, Jenn and I are just taking it one day at a time.

The Livestrong Challenge is in 2 weeks and I feel as ready as I’ve ever been.  I’ll be riding the 100-mile course that features close to 8,000 feet of elevation gain which includes climbs up Tiger Mountain and Cougar Mountain with gradients of 20+%.  I’ll probably be one of the few who’s actually done it while struggling with cancer.

The Lance Armstrong Foundation has continued to grow and has continued to make a difference in the lives of many struggling with cancer, including my own.  It’s ironic that Lance has come out of retirement the same year that I’ve come out of my own “cancer retirement.”  And to see him riding while also promoting the Livestrong Foundation continues to be an inspiration.

My sponsors have simply been incredible over the years.  In 2006 & 2007 combined we’ve raised $12,554 dollars in the fight against cancer!!!  That’s amazing!  I can’t even describe how touching it is to see how generous people are and how willing people are to donate for this cause.  That money has gone toward working directly with the CDC, funding numerous research programs, funding a number of community support programs and providing a support for individuals.

Sponsoring my ride this year will help ensure that those programs continue and that ultimately we find a way to a cure for cancer once and for all.

Join us in the fight! 

donate here => http://seattle09.livestrong.org/chumpboy